The Captain's Coat
by AlexisChristofori
Summary: Gruier Serenity's address to the warring Serenity Defense Forces, as told from her point of view. Illustrates the beginnings of a growing crush on the Bentenmaru's good Captain. One-shot, possibly to be referenced in future fics.


_Author's Note: I don't own this series or any of its characters, of course, and lay no claim to anything but the purely original elements, of which there are few. I have vague ideas for an _actual_ fic for these two (or maybe three) later, but watching this scene as I rewatched the series, I couldn't not whip up something quick for it from Gruier's point of view. I hope everyone enjoys it!_

**The Captain's Coat**

Everything was happening so fast! Her head was absolutely spinning, though fortunately not so much that she felt like she had to sit down. The Bentenmaru's crew worked at a frantic, but somehow not chaotic, pace as she stood at the ready before the captain's chair. Despite the momentous concerns that had been weighing on her, the fatigue and the worry, it seemed to be the little things that stood out to her most as she stood there on the bridge, watching the beams of light lance into the darkness. Different screens showed each finding their mark against a different battleship.

But it wasn't the growing civil divide in Serenity, the more personal divide with Grunhilde, or even the battle that the Bentenmaru had forced its way into that seemed to override her thoughts and rub her nerves raw. No, it was how warm the captain's coat was, the sweet scent that seemed to completely surround her now that she was wearing it. The two bright blue eyes that watched her from the lower bridge deck.

She toyed almost thoughtfully with the heavy lace that extended out of the cuff of one sleeve, sliding the soft material between her fingers. Between the coat and the hat, it was almost like Marika Kato was...was embracing her.

Though that was utterly ridiculous; it was just _clothes!_ And just a uniform, at that. It was nothing.

But why did it make her heart race and her cheeks flush?

A comm screen snapped to life in front of her, from the captain's control panel before the great throne-like chair, and she went rigid. The bicorn hat shifted a little, falling a little further on her head. It really was too big for her.

It was only one ship's bridge that she saw, rather than all six, but it was more than sufficient to refocus her thoughts, and it was no act that saw her own eyes blaze and delicate golden brows knit into a frown.

"What do you think you're doing here!?" The battleship's crew cringed and scrambled uniformly to their feet to stand at attention. For some reason it only incensed her further.

"I order the following, in the name of Gruier Serenity, legitimate heir to the throne of Serenity. The glorious-"

Her mouth was dry, and Gruier's cheeks flushed darker with embarrassment as her words stumbled while she wet her lips. At her sides, off screen, her hands balled into tight fists, clutching the silken cuffs between her fingers. Her world had narrowed to the comm screen, her anger and frustration of the past months finding an outlet in her outrage at the obvious infighting among the space forces.

"The glorious Serenity Defense Force is to suspend all operations in this airspace immediately! Failure to do so will be regarded as an act of willful treason against the throne itself." She bristled at the utterly dumbfounded look on the battleship captain's face and felt the hat slip further, threatening to fall off. "That is all!"

With a flair for timing, the woman down at the communications console cut the connection and the window went white for an instant before falling in upon itself and disappearing, leaving Gruier standing before the captain's chair, chest heaving as if she had just run a marathon. Life on the bridge resumed, with a din of conversation rising to fill the silence, but the princess' thoughts remained with the ships, watching them on screen, wracking her brain _and_ her heart, for what could drive them to **fire** at each other! Things had not gone so far as all that, surely!

Out of the quiet background a slow clap somehow managed to wrest her attention away, and she blinked, momentarily confused. _'Wha-'_

Something soft and warm cupped one fist, and as she looked down at the lowered area around the captain's chair, Marika clasped her other hand around the top of it, enclosing her smaller fist in her larger hands. "Good job."

Gruier raised her eyes from their joined hands, past the simple white button-down blouse the captain wore, and to her face, to the kind smile and the warm eyes. Those eyes that looked beyond the princess, that felt like they looked into...into whatever it was that made Gruier _Gruier,_ and not a princess, a figurehead, a pawn, or any sort of superior.

"That's enough."

To compete with her pounding heart, Gruier's stomach fluttered in a most unusual way, and she offered Marika a nervous smile, the best she could manage. "That was...kind of exciting," she admitted, a little surprised herself at how tired she suddenly sounded. Tired and spent.

Marika's grin was infectious, and Gruier's own smile lost its nervous quality. "Excellent!" The warm hands gave hers a squeeze, and Gruier's stomach flipped dangerously.

How odd a sensation it was, Gruier decided, for her legs to tremble. She had read about it, of course. It seemed a requisite part of every romance novel, to the point of cliche, but she had never known the feeling. It was not pleasant, entirely. And it was not related to the feeling of fatigue that had redoubled upon her with the ending of her speech.

That it eased a little when Marika turned those eyes from hers, looking out across the length of the bridge again, was probably a good indication of its source. "What's the situation?"

Though the young captain's attention had wavered, the gentle hold on Gruier's hand did not, and although she allowed herself to collapse into the captain's chair, she was careful not to pull her hand away. The heavy black hat slipped further down, not quite eclipsing her vision, but almost, and she tucked her chin against her chest, feeling very small in the much larger coat. The fluffy collar tickled her nose and her cheeks, but it was soft, and warm, and smelled so much like Marika. Gruier sighed and closed her eyes, just for a moment, as combat reports began.

Her part was done for the moment.


End file.
